I pause for a long moment and say sadly, “That she has to do everything at home because I have a God complex.” I tilt my head back and let out a noise of pure frustration. “And she’s not wrong. I told her to quit her job and stay home and….”
“Rhys,” Claire gasps. “She loves her work.”
“I know,” I rasp. “But the logistics are driving her nuts, and I’m…well, I’m here.”
“If she just stayed home, all this would get sorted, right?” Claire says sarcastically.
A dry, cutting chuckle slips past my lips. “I thought you psychologists weren’t supposed to be judgmental.”
“This isn’t a formal session, and you’re not a patient, you’re a friend, one whose ass I want to kick.”
That makes me smile. “Jayne wants to kick it, too.”
“Can you blame her?”
I shake my head solemnly. “We’re drowning, Claire.”
“Then one of you has to stop thrashing around long enough to find a raft,” Claire says gently. “If she gives up her job, you’ll lose her piece by piece. Don’t let her do that to save you.”
I swallow hard, throat tight. “So, what the hell do I do?”
Her expression turned sympathetic. “You and Paul are very different people, but you’re alike in one way. Your identity is wrapped up in being surgeons. You find validation at work. You both had lousy fathers who messed up your self-esteem, and you need your work to make you feel good about yourself.”
“Truer words have not been said,” I agree.
Her hand settles on my shoulder. “Here’s my honest read. If things keep heading down this path, one of you is going to look for something—anything—to numb what you’re both feeling about the marriage. Alcohol, work, substances, affairs…humans are incredibly resourceful when it comes to avoiding the real pain.”
I think about Tory and wonder if I might have slipped, even by accident. Instinctively, everything in me screams no. But here’s the part I can’t ignore. If our marriage stays the way it is, there won’t be a wife to step out on.
“I love Jayne.”
“I know.”
“I can’t…breathe without her, so it’s a wonder how much I keep fucking up.” I shake my head in self-recrimination and tell her about our conversation from last night.
“You want to save your marriage?” she asks bluntly.
I don’t have to think about it. The answer is there, strong and clear. “More than anything else.”
“Then be brave enough to be the one who steps back,” she says simply.
I gape at her. “You mean…?”
She nods. “Yes, that’s what I mean. I don’t know Jayne well, but what I do know tells me she’s going to want to quit her job, stay home, and save your sorry ass. Hasn’t she made enough sacrifices for the family, for you, already?”
She has.
Jayne gave up her dreams of becoming a lawyer to become a paralegal so we would have an income while I went to medical school. She kept the household running while I worked and built my career, and she did it all while keeping her job and paying the bills.
Before I can answer, Paul comes out of the gym, his hair wet from a shower. He smiles wide when he sees his wife, and she all but leaps up to hug him.
Jayne and I used to be like that. Genuinely thrilled to be with each other, see one another. Now, it was a shit show at home, and I knew it was my doing.
Paul smirks and gives me a questioning look. “She fixed you?”
“She tried.” I rise and eye the couplewith gratitude. They were the best friends a man could have. People who went above and beyond to help.
“He’s a tough nut,” Claire teases, “but I think I’ve gotten my message across.”
